Stupid Little Green Ribbon
by Hmfan5535
Summary: And Willow wanted to hate it for that-oh, how she wanted to hate it- almost as if it was all the ribbon’s fault Tara had been torn away from her. Stupid little green ribbon.//Tara's death scene, re-written with twists.//One-shot//


Title: Stupid Little Green Ribbon  
Character Focus/Shipping: Willow R./Tara M.  
Rating: E...maybe some T content.  
Warning: Hankie warning. Character death/angst. Femmeslash. Oh, and some season six spoilers.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, nor the characters Willow or Tara. If I did, they would both be locked in my basement because they're amazing~

This is basically just a re-write of Tara's death scene with some changes~  
Changes from Original:  
They are in high-school.  
Tara is there with them.  
Willow does not actually turn into 'scary, veiny Willow'.  
Tara has for-seen her death in a vision, and knows she will die later that day.

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"_What_, pray tell, are you putting in my hair?"

Tara Maclay leaned around Willow to grin at her, and then went back to twisting a small green ribbon around Willow's copper ponytail. "It's St. Pat's day, silly. You have to wear green, or everyone'll pinch you." Her tone was completely serious, but her eyes sparkled with good humor.

Willow Rosenberg could only smile, and shake her head. Her girlfriend's slightly eccentric ways always amused her, she had to admit.

Of course, no one knew that Willow and Tara were dating. Their relationship was kept a secret, mainly as Willow feared this would endanger Tara more if anyone knew, just as the humans Buffy had dated had been in danger from the constant threat of the creatures of evil that lurked around Sunnydale. To everyone else, they were just close friends. Always together. Inseparable.

So no one knew the way Tara's hands paused briefly on Willow's neck. No one knew they way Tara gently let her fingers drift down the short line of Willow's spine before she reached the collar of her shirt. No one knew the way this sent shivers of delight down Willow's spine.

And no one knew the brief, but sweet moment that was shared between them.

"Tara's right, you know," Buffy Summers reasoned, in a logical tone that she rarely used. "The boys would love the opportunity to pinch you."

Both Willow and Tara grimaced simultaneously. Willow because she knew Buffy was right, and Tara mostly out of the jealousy that this made her feel.

"I don't understand," Anya Jenkins began, and everyone couldn't help but roll their eyes. The blonde continued despite the lack of enthusiasm: "I mean, just because you don't wear green on this one day, you get pinched by anyone? Even people you don't know? Why?" The ex-demon, of course, was decked out in green from the mock leprechaun hat tilted precariously on her head, to the knee-high, white-and-green striped socks. Xander had seen to that.

Alexander 'Xander' Harris put his arm almost protectively around his girlfriend, shuffling her slightly to the side even though she was in no danger of being pinched. "Because it is the noblest of all traditions in March in human history. It is to celebrate that great old guy they called St. Patrick."

This vague explanation, of course, only seemed to confuse Anya more. Her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of it, and failed. "I still don't understand."

"There's nothing to it, Anya," Willow interrupted quickly-Xander's mouth had opened once more, no doubt to give another puzzling answer-as Tara finished with her hair. "It's just for fun."

Anya considered this for a moment, and then shook her head. "Boy, you humans sure are weird."

Xander tweaked the end of her nose. "That's _us_ humans, sweetheart. Now, let's go; we're going to be late for math."

A smile tugged on the corner of Willow's lips as she watched Xander take Anya's arm, and lead her down the teeming hallways. She had a feeling that Xander really wanted to get Anya out of pinching distance of the crowd of jocks coming down the opposite end of the hallway than get to math on time. When she glanced back at Tara, she could see that that Tara shared that secret smile.

"I'd better go, too," Buffy sighed, shifting the strap of her backpack into a more comfortable position. "Mr. Banner _hates_ it when I'm even thirty seconds late, and I've already had enough run-ins with Snyder. See you later, okay?"

Willow nodded, sufficiently distracted as Tara touched her shoulder gently, and Tara half-smiled coyly. Even though she had been with them almost a year, she was still a little uncomfortable around everyone but Willow.

"See you in Gym, Buffy."

Buffy smiled, nodded, and then slouched off into the crowd of students moving in several different directions down the hallway.

Willow watched her go, smiled to herself, and then pulled her biology books out of her locker, slamming it shut with one hand. She turned to Tara, who already had her books in her arms.

"Ready to go?" Willow asked, beaming over at her secret lover. Oh, she made her feel so happy.

Tara tilted her head to the side, studying Willow's expression for a moment, and nodded once, smiling gently. "Yeah, I am. Biology should be…" She paused, searching for the right word.

"Interesting?" Willow suggested, thinking of their two desks, side-by-side, in the very back of the classroom with another smile.

Tara grinned. "Yeah," She agreed cheerfully. "Interesting."

**o.(O).o**

Biology _was_ interesting.

Willow couldn't remember a word the teacher had spoken. She and Tara were both careful to keep still and quiet, and stay hidden behind the students in front of them to avoid being called on. It had been too easy.

The two spent the class passing notes. It was simple. Willow carried several spare notebooks on her at all times, for notes or whatever else she might need loose leaf for. They would write the note, and then push the notebook over to the other girl.

_You look upset. Everything okay_? Willow scrawled to Tara. Tara accepted the notebook, read the note, and then bit her lip, automatically ducking her head so her blonde hair swung forward to shield her face.

Willow frowned, taking this simple action as confirmation for her suspicions. She glanced around briefly to make sure everyone was in their usual sleepy stupor as the teacher droned on in a voice like a vacuum cleaner, and then reached forward, and brushed Tara's hair away, tucking the blonde locks behind her ear. When she reached for the notebook, Tara surrendered it willingly.

_Tara, baby, what's wrong_?

Willow shoved the notebook right under Tara, insistent and stubborn. Tara glanced at her side-ways, and gave her a small, sad smile, a smile of surrender. Then, slowly, with a sigh, she picked up her pen, and began to write a response.

Willow waited, hardly daring to breathe, until Tara finally pushed the notebook reluctantly back over to her. Willow bent closer to read the loopy handwriting that contrasted greatly with her own untidy scrawl.

_I had another vision, last night when I was sleeping. It upset me; that's all_.

Willow frowned for a moment, considering this short response. She knew that Tara occasionally had prophetic dreams, like Buffy, about people she was close to. More than often they were about Willow herself. Some were good, others bad. Willow felt a stir of unease in the pit of her stomach.

_Wanna talk about it? What did you see_? Willow passed the notebook back to Tara.

Tara cringed visibly when she read Willow's response, and Willow's frown grew more pronounced when she saw how this was upsetting her girlfriend. She reached for the notebook once more, as Tara had frozen, hands clenched into fists, obviously set on not answering.

_Tara, honey? Please tell me_.

Tara ground her teeth together; Willow heard the audible grinding sound, and it surprised her. Tara rarely showed any signs of anger, and this only proved how much this vision was disturbing her.

_Tara_?

Tara exhaled in something close to a hiss, shocking Willow once more. Seizing the notebook, Tara scribbled down a furious reply.

_I don't want to talk about it_!

Willow stared blankly at the paper. She could feel the hostility that screamed at her from the page, and blinked hard, horrified to find tears in her green eyes. She used Tara's move against her, and let her copper hair fall down to protect herself.

Something touched her shoulder, and then a gentle hand carefully turned her head around, and lifted her chin. Willow blinked against the tears as she found herself face-to-face with Tara's concerned blue eyes. For a moment, Willow almost lost herself in the beautiful blue depths, but she remembered her anger and pain the owner of those eyes had caused her. She averted her gaze to the desk.

"Willow…" All Tara's anxiety and fear of this unknown vision was leaking into her voice, coloring it dark. Tara had always known when something was wrong with anyone, but this vision seemed to have surpassed Willow on the priority list.

Willow jerked her chin away just as the bell sounded above them. Standing swiftly, she gathered her books silently, and swept from the room in a cloud of crimson hair and wounded pride, leaving a confused and hurt Tara behind.

**o.(O).o**

"What happened?"

Willow didn't look away from the birdie arcing through the air to meet her. Taking a furious-and misguided-swing, she almost succeeded in clipping Buffy across the shoulder with her badminton racket. But, of course, Buffy's heightened senses saved her from this fate. She side-stepped out of the way just in time, catching an off-balanced Willow before she could fall in the process.

"Willow." Buffy's tone was stern; it was obvious to her how upset Willow was.

"I don't want to talk about it." Saying this only made Willow feel worse, reminding her of how Tara had upset her with the same line. She stared at the ground, fighting the tears threatening to fall.

"Will, both you and Tara have been moping all Gym class. _And_ you could run a waffle iron on the tension between you. What happened?" Buffy let go of her friend's shoulders as soon as she was certain she wouldn't fall.

Willow couldn't help it. At the mention of her girlfriend's name, her eyes flickered over to locate her, two courts down, partnered with Anya. On a normal day, she would have pitied Tara, who had to deal with Anya's wild swings that were nowhere near the birdie, but, today, her heart was clouded with her anger. She'd only wanted to help her! Tara never hid anything from her; why should this vision be any different?

"It's nothing." Willow tried her best to sound casual, and shrug off Buffy, though she knew the attempt was useless.

"_Will_." Buffy took a hold of her shoulders again so she could look her in the eye. "If it was nothing, than Tara wouldn't be at the mercy of Bunny Girl."

Willow laughed once, a half-hearted attempt to show she was fine when she really wasn't. She couldn't keep it in any longer; all her pain, anger, and confusion was boiling inside her, and she needed to express it. Just as she opened her mouth to explain, a shout from across the court stopped her.

"Hey, are we gonna play, or what?" The two boys they were playing against sneered at them from over the net, obviously seeing Willow's distress. "Or are we just gonna stand around and cry?"

Willow glared at them from under her bangs, briefly considering a few curses to use on them before she regained control over herself.

"Can't you see we're trying to talk, here? Pass the birdie back and forth to your heart's content, but leave us alone." Buffy seized the birdie from where it lay on the ground, and shot it over to the boys. Her aim was perfect, as usual, and she had put enough force into it that the boy grimaced when it skimmed his arm. They backed off, grumbling incoherently.

"Forget it, Buffy. Let's just play." Willow tried to twist out of Buffy's grasp, but Buffy only tightened her hold to the point that it became painful. Willow stopped squirming, staring dejectedly at the ground as Buffy loosened her grip slightly.

"Willow. Tell me."

Willow was quiet for a moment, and then she drew in a shuddering breath. Before she could stop them, a rush of words burst from inside her. "I don't know; that's the problem! Tara said she had another-" Her voice lowered automatically to keep the magic she and Tara possessed a secret- "vision, but she won't tell me what it is. It's obviously upset her, but she won't talk about it!"

"Well, maybe she just needs time to think about it," Buffy suggested, optimistic as always.

"She never had to before. She always told me everything." Willow's voice broke on the last word, and the tears she had diligently fought back welled up in her eyes, and spilled over.

Buffy's own eyes filled with tears, but she was the Slayer, and she had learned to control her emotions long ago. She reached forward, but Willow had already dashed the tears away with the heel of her hand. Of course, they kept coming. _Idiot. You shouldn't have told her._

Buffy wiped a few away. "Willow, honey…" She was quiet for a long moment, and then she sighed again. "I think it's best if you go clean up. Come on; let's get you to the bathroom."

"I'm _fine_, Buffy."

"No, you're not; you're a mess. We're going to get you cleaned up, and we're going to figure out what's going on with Tara. Okay?"

Willow sucked in another unsteady breath, and nodded. "Okay," She whispered, her voice breaking again.

Buffy nodded, giving her a small smile. "Okay," She repeated, putting one arm around Willow's shoulders. It was both to help her, and to comfort her. Together, they stumbled over to Coach, who, after taking one look at Willow's pale and tear-stained face, quickly gave her permission for them to take a break.

Willow leaned more heavily against Buffy as a wave of faint washed over her. She suddenly felt ill, and nauseas. She hoped she wouldn't be sick; she was feeling sorry enough for herself. She wanted to go home, but she didn't want to be fussed over. She wanted to mourn in peace.

"You don't look so good, Will. You been sick lately?" Buffy's tone was, unbelievably, cheerful. Cheerful, but concerned.

Willow shook her head. "N-no." But, when her stomach clenched uncomfortably with another bout of nausea, she added: "At least, I don't _think_ so."

"You haven't been sleeping well." It was a statement, not a question. When Willow glanced at her, surprised, she smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and murmured: "Tara told me. She was worried you were wearing yourself down. Also said you haven't been eating much, either."

"O-oh. She…yeah, that's right." Willow barely managed to choke out the words before the lump in her throat stopped all forms of verbal communication. She looked away as Buffy hauled her into the bathroom.

"It's gonna be okay, Will. I swear it will be," Buffy promised softly as she helped Willow over to the counter. Willow leaned against it, grateful for it's support, and inhaled deeply through her mouth, trying to ease the ache in her stomach.

Cool wetness touched her forehead. Willow leaned instinctively into the touch, exhaling as the cold eased the throb in her temples. She hadn't realized how much her small case of insomnia had taken out of her until now. She was relieved that Buffy had thought of dampening the paper towel, but she also hated that she had. It shouldn't have been Buffy holding that paper towel; it should've been Tara. It should have been Tara who was comforting her, just like she had when Joyce had died…

A sob racked through Willow's slender frame. Arms enveloped her, pulling her into a tight embrace. It was comforting, yet upsetting at the same time, as the memory of a different pair of arms, the need for them, pulsed inside her. Still, she was soothed, to the point that she almost drifted off to sleep, feeling the weight of the exhaustion for the first time.

That's when the screaming started.

Willow jerked out of her trance, a small scream of her own tearing out of her throat. Almost like a sixth sense, she knew instantly where those screams were coming from, and horror washed through her. Like a vice, it clamped down on her limbs, freezing her into place. "Tara!" _No. Oh, goddess, no._

Buffy's arms dropped, and she was gone almost instantly, bolting for the gym. Willow, having found the will to move her clumsy arms and legs, followed close behind, staggering slightly, still only half-conscience. All the hurt, all the anger, that she had been feeling…it didn't matter anymore. She just wanted to see her girlfriend, her Tara, alive and well.

She should've known better, as she stumbled down the hallway and towards the gym doors. Buffy was already gone, and she should've known that it was going to happen. She should've known that the beautiful, amazing woman that had become her lover wasn't going to be with her forever.

She should've known better. She should've known as soon as she heard the shot.

Willow stopped cold in the entrance of the gym doors when she saw Tara slumped on the wooden floor, crimson blood pouring from the wound in her chest. Everyone's screams were drowned out in the sound of her own pounding heart.

A cry of fear and pain sounded. "Tara!"

With a shock, she realized it was her own.

And she should've known, as a dry sob clawed out of her throat, and she began to run, almost blinded with her tears, that there was nothing she would be able to do. But she kept running, a million happy memories flashing through her mind. Her lungs begged for air; her muscles screamed at her to stop, but she kept going. She had to keep running. She had to get to Tara. There had to be some way to help. Anything. She just had to help her…

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! _She snarled at herself as she ran. _I should've told her every day how much I love her! I should have never been angry with her! I should've known_…

And that's when the hysterics began.

"Tara!" She screamed as she ran, forcing her exhausted body to move faster than it ever had. "Tara!"

She didn't stop screaming her lover's name until she fell to the floor next to Tara, and touched her cheek, felt her cold skin, saw the closed lids that hid the ocean eyes that she loved so much, and she couldn't help but remember how they could once sparkle and dance. Willow grasped her shoulders, shook her, dragged her onto her lap, and only felt fear when she saw Tara's head loll on her slender neck, unresponsive.

"No! Baby, please! Tara! Please! Open your eyes! Don't do this! _Please_…!"

That's when the screams had turned to sobs of pain. Because she knew then, knew that there was no saving her, and Tara wasn't there any longer. The limp body that she held in her shaking arms was only an empty shell of the beautiful person it once contained.

She should've known better.

**o.(O).o**

She stayed until four o'clock to clean out her locker.

By the time all of Tara's things had been carefully moved from the locker to Willow's bag, Willow's tears had ceased. She didn't cry. She didn't feel pain. She didn't feel anger. She just felt numb. Numb and empty. Broken.

That's when she found the letter.

At first, Willow was about to tuck the letter into her backpack without even opening it, but a fleeting glance registered a word written on the front of the envelope in the familiar, loopy writing. Another made sense of the letters to form a name.

Her name.

Willow stood for a long moment, staring at her name written in her girlfriend's- she refused to think of her as dead- handwriting, in her favorite silver gel pen that Willow had leant her, and ended up giving her. Then she shut Tara's locker for the last time, dropped the lock in her bulging backpack, and turned to lean against the locker in case she needed support. Slowly, she opened the envelope, taking great care not to tear it. Any reminder of Tara was precious now, and ripping the paper would be like ripping out a piece of her heart. After a few minutes of cautious work, she was rewarded by easing out three sheets of lined paper.

_My beloved Willow_, the first line read.

_By now, I am most likely already dead. I'm so sorry it had to end this way. This was my vision, you see. I'm so sorry that I seemed angry at you. I am never angry with you, and I never could be. I was angry, of course, but not with you. I was angry with fate. It was fate that brought us together, but it was also fate that tore us apart._

_I'm so, so sorry, Willow. I can't imagine the pain you're going through. I wish I could be there to hold you. I always promised we'd be together, and that I'd always be there, didn't I? Well, I'm still here, because I'll never leave you Willow. Never. I just can't be there with you when you fall asleep tonight, and I'm sorry. But I hope you know I'll never, ever leave you. And I always keep my promises, don't I, Will?_

_I only want the best for you, and if I had it my way, I'd be with you tonight. And I would never let you go. If I had just that one more chance, I wouldn't ever let go of you. I'm so sorry our time together was cut short, but we'll be together-truly together-again someday. At least, I hope we will. If I go to heaven, then we'll definitely be together, because that's where you'll be._

Willow swallowed hard, feeling the tedious control she had worked so hard to get slowly breaking. "You're wrong, Tara," She whispered to the empty air, wondering if her beautiful girl could hear her, and hoping she could. "You're the angel. You're the beautiful, glorious, breathtaking angel. Maybe you can visit me in Hell."

Willow's self control slowly deteriorated as she read the rest of Tara's letter. She could hardly breathe; her lungs didn't want to co-operate, and she could barely see past the haze of tears that she stubbornly fought back.

All too soon, Tara's sweet words came to an end. Willow could barely make out the last lines of silver writing, but she had to. She just had to. She strained her bleary eyes to the point of pain to read the last paragraph.

_I'm really sorry, Will, but don't fret. Don't cry. Like I said before: we'll be together soon. But until I can tell you this myself in person, I love you, Willow. I love you. I love your amazing smile, and your beautiful green eyes. I love your enchanting laugh, and your stunning personality. I won't ever forget you, Willow, and I'll be waiting until we can be together again. I love you, Will._

_Yours Forever,_

_Tara._

All the self-control Willow clung to shattered on the spot, leaving her exposed and vulnerable. She couldn't see; she couldn't breathe. Slowly, so slowly, she slid until she felt the smooth, cool tile of the school floor underneath her. The letter fell from her trembling fingers as she slammed her head back against the hard metal of the locker, and sobbed. She sobbed until her heart, aching and keening with loss, was momentarily satisfied, and her eyes finally ran dry.

For the moment, at least.

Head pounding, she reached up to rub her temples, pushing away loose strands of her red hair, and felt something foreign brush her hand. Puzzled, she reached back, and took a hold of something that wasn't hair.

It took a moment for her sore head to process it. Oh. It was the ribbon, the pointless ribbon Tara had tied in her hair that morning. Had it only been that morning? It felt like centuries ago. A different time. A happy one. Willow could still feel Tara's hands drifting across her neck, and the realization that Tara, her sweet, gorgeous Tara, would never be there again to hold her was too much to bear.

Angrily, Willow ripped the ribbon from her hair, along with the elastic that held up her hair. She let the elastic drop to the ground; she had put it in herself, and Tara had not touched it. Therefore, it no longer held any meaning to her.

Heaving a sigh, and blinking against another rush of tears, Willow closed her hand around the ribbon, and held it close to her heart, hoping that, if she tried hard enough, this cheap, plastic ribbon could bring her Tara back to her again. But, of course, this hope was vain, and the small reminder that she clutched in her hand was nothing more than a piece cut from a seventy-five cent gift wrap ribbon roll. Another wave of anger washed over her, but she couldn't bring herself to move the plastic away from her. It was still a tiny part of her life with Tara, and she couldn't just throw it away like it didn't matter. And Willow wanted to hate it for that-oh, how she wanted to hate it- almost as if it was all the ribbon's fault Tara had been torn away from her.

_Stupid little green ribbon_.

"Willow."

Willow didn't look up for a long time, holding her anger and pain until she could smooth her expression over and steal back into the safety of her numb shell. Finally, she looked up to meet Buffy's concerned gaze. They were all there. Buffy, Xander, Anya-she looked confused and hurt, just like when Joyce had died- and even Dawn, who was clearly fighting back tears. Willow was instantly chagrined. Dawn needed her, and she was being selfish.

_It's hard not to be selfish when the love of your life is taken from you so quickly you can hardly blink before she's gone_.

Buffy dropped an open notebook into Willow's lap, startling her from her thoughts. Willow didn't even bother to glance it; what did it matter to her, anyway? Unless it could bring Tara back, it held no value to her.

"What is it?" Her voice was dead, a monotone.

Buffy didn't answer. She stared at Willow with unreadable eyes.

Willow sighed, and looked down at the notebook. She skimmed the first line, and then froze.

"You've been hiding something, haven't you?" Buffy murmured. Her voice was emotionless.

Willow continued to read the lines of her and Tara's biology class conversation, only stalling for time; she knew the words off by heart. It was so obvious by what she had written that Tara and her shared more than just a friendship.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. _ It was just a dry whisper in the back of her head, a lifeless repeat of her earlier thoughts.

Willow closed the notebook, and looked up at the rest of the Scooby Gang. It sent off little stabs of pain in her heart when she saw the gap where Tara should've been.

"Yes," She affirmed, her voice thick with tears. Why deny it any longer?

Buffy knelt next to Willow as Anya and Xander looked away, obviously uncomfortable. Dawn merely continued to stare at Willow with unfathomable emotion, and it was clear to the distraught red head that Dawn had always figured there was something more between her two 'surrogate parents'.

"Why didn't you tell us, Will?" Buffy asked softly. She reached with one hand, as if to wipe away the lingering tears from Willow's cheeks, but withdrew when Willow turned away from her.

"I was afraid," Willow whispered, refusing to meet their gazes. "Afraid that Tara would be in even more danger if anyone knew."

Everyone was silent, and then a hand found her's. Buffy squeezed Willow's hand once, and Willow looked back over at her. For moment, they only stared at each other as an understanding passed between them. Buffy knew how Willow felt about protecting Tara, and how she felt now that Tara was gone.

"Let's get you home." Buffy's voice was kind, and filled with the understanding that they shared. Willow nodded slowly, and picked up Tara's letter from the floor as Buffy pulled her to her feet with ease. Xander handed Willow her heavy backpack without a word, avoiding her eyes, and Willow slung it onto her back with a sigh. How was this going to affect her friendship with Xander and Anya now?

"What's that?" Buffy asked curiously, nodded towards the letter Willow clutched almost desperately in her fingers.

Willow felt a surge of sudden, and unexplainable, terror. "Nothing," She answered quickly, folding the letter swiftly so she could hide it in her pocket. "Just biology notes." Buffy shrugged in response, not interested enough to press the matter, and began walking down the hall.

Willow waited until everyone had their backs to her before she uncurled her hand, and looked down at the green ribbon. She briefly considered throwing it away in the nearest trash can, but decided against it. With a sigh, she gently tucked Tara's stupid little green ribbon into her other pocket, and the fragments of her shattered heart along with it.

Yeah, well, I hope you enjoyed that. Poor Willow. ~R.I.P Tara~


End file.
